Not For Sale
by Doc Scratch
Summary: Ukraine has not been heard from in a week. Canada, feeling an especial sense of unease for the situation, goes searching for her. Unknown to him, she has been abducted by human traffickers with no knowledge of her true identity. Eventual Canada/Ukraine.
1. Abduction

A/N: Well, this was originally written on a short prompt as a gift to my girlfriend, but the story kind of really grabbed me, so I ran with it.

The title is from the song 'Not For Sale' by Ruslana, which can be found here: www. youtube .com/ watch?v=5h5_QhRtG60 (remove the spaces)

* * *

Not For Sale

Chapter 1: Abduction

* * *

There was a question on a broken record, the needle skipping and the words repeating over and over. How could she have been so _stupid_?

It was like a fist rammed into her stomach every time she thought of it, making her feel nauseous and dizzy, even more so than the drug fading from her system. But at the same time... it was a buffer. The thought, on repetition, was something for her mind to latch onto, something to focus on to keep the full brunt of the situation from sinking in. How could she have been so _stupid_? Again, and again. There was accompaniment as well, once in a while. She was smarter than this, she should have known better, she _did _know better, how could this be happening, oh God, oh God, _how could she have been so stupid?_

Ukraine groaned and curled up tighter, she wanted to hold her head, to rub her temples, but her hands wouldn't rise and she was still too numb from whatever that bastard had slipped in her drink to work her wrists free of the ropes. At first the rumbling was background noise, not enough to distract from her frustrated self-deprecating thoughts, but gradually the fog and the lethargy were retreating in the face of a splitting headache and soreness that seemed to permeate her entire body. The rumbling was from the movement of a car. She was lying in the back of some kind of van, like so much cargo. When she tried to sit up, her headache worsened drastically and her gag reflex responded. Laying down quickly again, she swallowed repeatedly and prayed for the world to stop spinning. She didn't particularly fancy the idea of having to add the stench of vomit to that of diesel and cigar smoke and a metallic tang that registered as blood, an all-too-familiar scent.

There was the sound of something being slid aside as she lay there gasping. A conversation, two male voices speaking in thickly accented English, drew her attention temporarily from the feeling of sickness. The men didn't seem to care if she heard, as the little window separating the back of the van from the front seats was left open, probably they thought she only spoke Russian.

"Fuck, the bitch is awake."

"So what? We're nearly there. Saves having to lug her down the goddamn stairs at least. Those things look heavy."

"You see what she did to Nikolai's face before the shit kicked in? Broad's got some fight in her, I ain't paid enough to drag a fuckin' wildcat around. Not a conscious one at least."

"Fine, we'll pull over in a bit and stick her with another dose, but you better not overdo it. This one's gonna be worth somethin' good, figure like that."

Ukraine shuddered and fought the urge to retch, wrists pulling at the restraints desperately. If she could just get her hands free before they pulled over then maybe... maybe...

* * *

"Al, have you seen Yekaterina anywhere?" Matthew had the abrupt realization that he might as well have been speaking to a brick wall. This was a sensation he often experienced, much to his frustration, but with Alfred it was usually a different brand than others. The majority of the other Nations, people in general in fact, had a tendency to overlook Canada to levels as extreme as not noticing him even when he screamed in their ears. Alfred was different, he noticed Matthew... at least he noticed when Matthew was present, and then usually proceeded to completely ignore just about everything he said in favor of going on rants about whatever the blond superpower thought was most awesome or annoying at the time. Still, at least his existence was acknowledged when he spoke to Alfred, which was a lot more than could be said for most of his attempts at conversation.

Now, however, the only response Canada received to his question was "Oh come ON, stay in the FUCKING Poke Ball! You _suck_!" which somehow he didn't think was actually directed at him.

"...Nice to know I'm such a high priority for you, bro." Canada took advantage of his twin's distraction to sneak up behind and yank on his collar. The United States of America jerked, made a strained _'erk!' _sound, and flailed enough to flip his chair over. Limbs sprawled gracelessly, mingled with pieces of chair. Matthew felt a bit bad for the poor furniture. It had never done him any harm, after all. Alfred on the other hand...

"Dammit Mattie! I hadn't saved that in an hour!" America mourned the dark screen of his DS, which was in the customized colors of red, white, and blue, of course. With stars too, but the stars were stickers, and there weren't fifty of them because even Alfred was capable of some mild self-restraint every once in a while.

"Alfred. Have you seen Ukraine?" Matthew repeated, ignoring his brother's complaints. This was a very narrow window, and if he wanted America's attention he had to act now.

"Of course! Lots of times!" Alfred rolled his eyes as he disentangled himself from the chair's remains and shook a few splinters off his bomber's jacket. "She's the one with the really great-" even with the game system in his hand, the gesture Alfred had begun to make around his chest was impossible to misinterpret, and Matthew decided to do his brother a favor and cut him off before he felt obligated to punch him in the face.

"I meant _recently_, have you seen her recently?" He interrupted with a sigh, "I called her a couple days ago and her secretary said she was out... which I thought was odd, because we'd planned to meet for some lunch that day, but she never showed. I figured she was busy, what with all the stuff that's been going on in Europe and with her brother but... I called again today and they asked _me _if I'd seen her so..." Canada stopped talking. There was no point, it was doubtful America could hear him over all that raucous laughter.

"You got stood up!" America actually doubled over, "oh man, Mattie, I mean come on she is so out of your league! It's just redirection, duh! I'm sorry but-"

"Ok, stop." Matthew held up a hand for emphasis, and Alfred dissolved into giggles. Manly giggles. _American _giggles. Giggles that in no way resembled any sort of school girl. Seriously. Shut up, he can lift buffalo over his head. "We're not... dating. And anyway she's not out of my league. I mean, that is, she's amazing but there's nothing wrong with me!" Alfred might have said something derisive here if he hadn't still been laughing. Probably something that would have been a really great burn, too. Oh man, it would've been awesome. Too bad about those giggles. I mean laughs. Yeah. "...We're getting off-topic. All I asked was have you seen her?"

Alfred took a few deep breaths, wiping a tear of mirth from one eye and slowly managing to straighten up again, still wearing the biggest shit-eating grin in the world. Matthew crossed his arms and waited expectantly for America to finish pulling himself together.

"Mattie got duuuumped~!" The giggles were back.

"...I'm going to go talk to Arthur."

"It's ok Mattie! There are plenty of fish in the sea!" Alfred called out the door after him.

"Get bent!"

Ah, brotherly love.

* * *

To Be Continued.


	2. Bought and Paid For

A/N: Thanks for the sweet reviews guys, they really made my day~! I hope you all continue to enjoy the story, it gets pretty dark from here on out...

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

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Chapter 2: Bought and Paid For

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Her eyelashes were sticking together and her eyes burned, but she couldn't rub the sleep from them because her hands were still bound. A bit of squirming let her roll onto her side, accompanied by a small whimper. Cool hands pressed against her feverish skin, and she felt a soft cloth brush against her eyelids, clearing away the worst of the residue from tears and slumber. Ukraine opened her eyes, and as soon as she did she knew she was looking at one of her people. The girl was young, painfully so, though whether she was sixteen or thirteen was hard to tell. If you judged from her eyes alone, she may as well have been sixty. Those eyes were too old for that pretty face, too old for a human girl.

They were in a large, shabby room, the walls whitewashed and plain. Everything looked dingy in the dim lighting, but it probably would even in good lighting. There were four or five bare old mattresses scattered around, but there was just Ukraine and this other girl present. Only one window was in the room, set into the far wall and crudely boarded over. Crudely, but effectively. There was only one way out, and that was the door, which would obviously be locked.

"_I am so sorry_." The girl murmured, soft Russian syllables that were as comforting as the mattress Ukraine was lying on was not.

"_Thank you_." Yekaterina whispered back, her words ragged after climbing up through a parched throat. The girl stepped away, disappearing from sight for a moment, and Ukraine felt an irrational rush of panic and struggled to sit up, to follow her, to ask her not to leave- but she had already returned, and she helped the Nation to sit up properly despite her restraints. She'd fetched a water bottle, and she pressed the lip to Ukraine's mouth and tilted it so she could drink, stopping every few seconds to let her swallow. The girl was experienced at this.

"_I cannot untie you, they would punish us both_." She said, still quietly, under her breath, but Yekaterina had no trouble hearing her as she lowered the water bottle and recapped it. Ukraine understands. She knows what these people are like, has known for longer than this poor girl has been alive, and she would not ask her to risk their sort of punishment.

"_What is your name?_"She asked instead, and the girl gave her a look, one that might have been surprised if it wasn't so resigned, so tired... and for a moment Ukraine thought she wouldn't answer, she turned away without a word to set the bottle of water aside. But she turned back again a second later, setting a reassuring hand on Ukraine's knee.

"_Irina_," she answered belatedly, with a shaky semblance of a smile that was gone in an instant, "_my name is Irina. What is yours?_" Ukraine couldn't tell her for a moment, her heart was in her throat, blocking sound from escaping. This girl, this child, Irina... she was trying to comfort her, to care for her, and Ukraine wanted nothing more in that moment than to take her in her arms and stroke her hair and tell her it will all be alright, that she'll save them both, that she'll get them out of here, that she'll protect her... but even if her arms were free, she knew the words would be a lie. And Irina would know it too.

"_My name is Yekaterina_." Was all she could say, her voice climbing an octave as she tried to hold in her emotions. She had never been good at that, though, and it isn't long before Irina has pulled her against her shoulder to let her cry. She doesn't murmur anything, doesn't try to comfort Ukraine with words, just holds her and rubs her back gently.

There are footsteps, and the sound of a door handle being turned, and abruptly Irina is on the other side of the room, huddled on her own mattress and giving Yekaterina a quick apologetic look before hiding her face in her knees. Ukraine trembles and swallows and tries to get a grip on herself as her kidnappers enter the room with a third man she has never seen before.

"Lets have a look then, see if she's really worth the price you're asking for her." He is saying. Then the man looks at her, and Ukraine instinctively locks her knees together and scoots back. It's a useless gesture, and it only makes the man sneer, but she can't help it. "_Stand up_." He orders coldly, switching to Russian. They still don't know she understands English. She decides not to let them find out; pathetic advantage though it might be, it's still an advantage.

One of the other men steps forward, presumably to grab her and force her up, but the man giving the orders raises a hand to stop him. "She has to learn to follow orders." He says coldly, and addresses Ukraine again. "_I said stand up_." Yekaterina hesitates... but defying him at this point will only lead to that much more abuse. She swallows her pride and struggles to her feet. "_Good girl_. You see? Not so untameable, once they understand their situation." The nausea is back, and Ukraine stares at the ceiling as the man approaches.

"_Lets see then_..." He mutters, and his breath is on her neck. Yekaterina fights to keep her gaze from lowering. She doesn't want to see his expression as he fingers her hair, making an approving sound at the softness of it. She can feel his critical gaze on her face, but knows from her peripheral vision that he has nodded, pleased with that as well. She has to bite her tongue to keep from crying out when he tears her shirt open in one smooth movement, but she cannot help flinching and he grabs her upper arm to hold her still, the grip harsh and bruising. She can't keep her eyes on the ceiling now, they dart to the source of discomfort automatically, and she feels like retching at the cold, calculating, _hungry _look on the man's face.

"Hn." He says. "She's well proportioned, I'll give you that. They look natural even, an incredible find..." His fingers brush over the skin of her chest, and Ukraine shudders and tries to jerk away, but his hold on her arm is too tight and she has to swallow a dry sob. She won't give him that satisfaction. "However these scars..." He was poking at Chernobyl now, and Ukraine had to fight to keep from wincing, even though it didn't really hurt that much anymore. "They'll lessen her value a great deal. No one wants some bitch who looks like she's had hot oil thrown on her."

"Goddammit, we should have checked earlier..." One of the kidnappers grumbled. "Great, what a waste. How much _is _she worth, then?" There's a pause, and Ukraine holds her breath. Hoping... she doesn't know what for. Maybe if they think she's undesirable enough, they'll toss her aside. Maybe they'll shoot her. It's not the most pleasant of thoughts, but as a Nation she'd reawaken in a day or two and be able to find her way back home...

"Five thousand, in US dollars."

"_What!?_" The other kidnapper shouts, then shoots a quick glance at Ukraine, who doesn't have to pretend to look terrified, before starting again, "that's ridiculous! For a woman-"

"Take it or leave it. It's a good deal." The man still clenching Ukraine's arm cuts him off sternly. The two kidnappers look at each other... and after a moment, share a nod.

"We'll take it."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hey, Arthur, I wanted to-"

"I'm sorry, hello? Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"...it's Matthew."

"Alfred is this you!?"

"No, no I'm Matthew!"

"Matthew? Matthew who?"

"_Williams_. Canada."

"Matthew Will- oh! Matthew, of course, I'm sorry. What did you need?"

A sigh. "I was just calling to ask about Ukraine."

"...Ukraine...? What about her?"

"Have you heard from her recently? Or... I don't know, seen her around?"

"No, I can't say that I have. But I don't have many dealings with Ukraine, I rarely see her outside of EU meetings anyway." A pause. "Why are you asking about this?"

"No reason... I just haven't been able to get a hold of her."

"Well, you'd be better off asking one of her siblings, wouldn't you? Not that I'd... really recommend speaking with either Russia or Belarus, but they're more likely to be able to get in touch with her."

"Er... I guess so. Yes, you're right. Thanks anyway Arthur."

"You're quite welcome, ah... I'm sorry, who did you say you were again?"

"...Don't worry about it."

Click!

* * *

To Be Continued...


	3. Scarification

A/N: So... lack of interest from my readers causes lack of interest in my writing... I'm not just trying to be a bitch and fish for reviews (although reviews are nice, I like those), it's just how my motivation levels work. When they work. Which isn't often. I am a lazy, self-centered creature, and if I feel that I'm not getting feedback then I don't feel any need to work to get things finished in a timely manner. In other words... the less reviews I get, the later chapters will be up. Again, not trying to be a bitch, just giving everyone a heads up. The fact that I'm sounding like a bitch in the process is an unfortunate coincidence. I'm sorry, I love you all really, I'm just lazy. Enjoy the chapter, the next one may take a while.

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

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Chapter 3: Scarification

* * *

Her hands are free at last, her shoulders still ache from the restraint, and the hand-shaped bruise on her right arm throbs whenever she looks at it. She's been stood up against a wall, next to Irina, and the man who bought her is speaking to them. Two other men flank him, not the ones who took her, these two are bigger, burlier. Bodyguards.

"_You will do what you are told, when you are told, how you are told_." He informs them, his tone leaving no room for argument. "_If you disobey, you will be punished. We know who you are_." Ukraine highly doubted that. "_We know your families, those closest to you. If you try to run, we will kill them, and then we will kill you_."

The idea of any of these men trying to attack Ivan or Natalia was both disturbing and laughable. Yekaterina cared for her siblings, twisted as they were, but even if these men were as powerful as they claimed, anyone they sent after Russia and Belarus would not be coming back. This was assuming that they weren't bluffing about knowing who her family was in the first place. Still, she was intelligent enough to remain silent. Irina had begun crying softly. Yekaterina's heart ached for her, and the fear she felt was more for Irina than herself. Ukraine had lived through horrors that would have broken the mind of any human, she knew she would live through this too, though it would leave her with a new set of scars, and not the kind that could be found on skin.

"_Do you understand?_" The man had stopped in front of Ukraine. He grabbed her chin and forced her eyes to meet his.

"..._I understand_." She replied carefully, and he nodded slowly, but did not release her.

"_I know that look in your eyes, girl_." He says to her. "_I have seen it before_. _You hold on to that hope_. _It means there is less chance of you killing yourself and robbing me of a valuable commodity_." He was horrible. From his pitiless blue eyes to his nicotine-scented breath, he was utterly repellant, and no pleasant arrangment of features or expensive suit could change that, though not for lack of trying. He told them his name was Alexis, but that they were only to refer to him as _Sir_. The guards' names were not mentioned. What was mentioned was that they were to be obeyed.

"_We will be leaving in the morning_." Alexis said. "_You do not need to know where we are going_." He waited a moment, daring them to ask. When neither did he nodded once, satisfied, and turned for the door. The guards did not follow him, and he nodded to them as he strode out.

Ukraine closed her eyes, but it was too late, their smiles had already burned themselves into her retinas. She felt a hand on her arm, the one that was unbruised, and then the creak of bedsprings as she was thrown onto one of the mattresses. There was the sound of belts being undone, zippers opening, Ukraine retreated into herself, trying to escape the fingers that pulled her clothes away. She was clenching her fists so tightly that even her neatly trimmed nails drew blood, and she tried to focus on the pain in her palms instead of the touches, her body shivering in revulsion even while her conscious tried to escape.

Then she heard Irina whimper.

"_W-wait!_" Yekaterina's eyes snapped open, the man above her was still smiling as he shoved her legs apart, and she swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat. She threw her hands up, but not to shove him away, she twisted to look, to see the other man had Irina shoved up against the wall. "_Wait! B-both of you... I'll do both of you!_" The room went still, Irina's horror stricken face, covered in tear tracks, was staring at her over the other guard's shoulder, the look on his face was one of surprised interest. The man over Ukraine was giving her an incredulous look, shooting glances between her and his partner. "..._Please_... _just let her be_. _I'll do whatever you want_." The gesture wouldn't save Irina, not really. She would still be sold, over and over, whenever they reached their final destination. She would still have the trauma of however many times this had been done to her beforehand. The guards could even come back again later and do it then. But Ukraine knew she had to do something. She had to. Irina was Ukrainian, was one of her people, was her daughter, as surely as if she were a child born of her womb, and she had to protect her. Even if she could only manage it this once.

There were tears in her eyes when the man dropped Irina, but they were tears of relief. He laughed as he walked over, made a gesture to his friend. Yekaterina tried to smile at Irina as she was flipped over and pressed into the mattress. Irina just slid down the wall and covered her face, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The other man grabbed Ukraine's shoulders, lifted her up until she was on eye level with his open zipper. Her legs were being spread from behind, and she couldn't tell anymore if she was trembling in fear or disgust or some mix of the two as she raised her hands to pull the man in front of her free of his boxers. He grabbed her by the hair, and she had to press her palms against the mattress to hold herself up. He was in first, groaning in satisfaction as she screamed around him, screamed because the other had just entered her roughly and hadn't waited for her to adjust before beginning to thrust, in and out.

Her eyes had squeezed shut again of their own volition. This didn't stop the tears from streaming down her face, sobs choking her almost as much as the way her mouth was being used. She didn't regret it, though. She thought of Irina, sitting in the corner, spared for just this once. She couldn't regret it.

* * *

Matthew knocked on the door, and let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. On the surface, he felt stupid for being here, for taking a plane, and then a train, and then renting a car, just to get here... and all because he just hadn't been able to get in contact with someone for a week. It was ridiculous, it was overreacting. It was all going to come back and bite him in the ass and make him look as stupid as he felt. Fortunately, people rarely paid him any mind anyway, so maybe they wouldn't notice the extra stupid. Or better yet, maybe they'd blame it on Alfred. Matthew smiled at that, albeit bitterly.

Still... he couldn't help the feeling of urgency. There was just something about this whole situation that didn't sit right in his gut. Some little voice in the back of his mind that was telling him to do this, to take it seriously, to go to great lengths to find Ukraine... find her. As if she was really lost, instead of just avoiding him, like she probably was. '_She is so out of your league!_'

"Shut up..." Matthew grumbled at the memory, and the door opened.

"I have not said anything yet?" Ivan looked perplexed, gazing down on his Northern neighbor expectantly. Matthew shivered a little. It really just figured that one of the only Nations that ever gave him complete, undivided attention was also the downright most terrifying. Irony, flavor of the fucking millenium. Matthew shuffled back until he could look Russia in the eye without straining his neck.

"Er... no I didn't mean you, just... nevermind." Matthew tugged on the hem of his coat nervously, and Russia smiled and stepped aside, inviting him in. Canada hesitated on the doorstep, glancing over his shoulder at the comforting sight of the rental car. Escapes routes were always a good thing to have, even if Russia wasn't really all that unpleasant anymore, now that the whole Soviet Union thing was over with. Still, the climate wasn't the only thing that was freezing up here. If it was, Canada could have handled it. His weather wasn't much better in places, after all.

"Is good of you to visit." Ivan commented, drawing his attention back to the tempting waft of warm air drifting from inside, and the much less tempting giant standing just past the doorframe. Matthew abruptly felt guilty. Ivan had never done anything to him to warrant this attitude, and besides, he was making the other man lose precious heat.

"Ah, yeah, thanks. I mean, sorry." Matthew mumbled, hurrying in and biting his lip so that he wouldn't jump when the door slammed shut behind him. Ivan was at his side again, proving not for the first time that he was alarmingly fast despite his size. He didn't offer to take Matthew's coat. It wouldn't have occurred to him. Instead, he led the way to a surprisingly cozy sitting room, and waited for Matthew to take a seat before choosing the one opposite him.

"You did not come just to see me." Russia's tone bore no accusation, it was a simple statement of fact, cheerful even. Canada felt chilled to the bone.

"Well... well, no. Not that it isn't nice seeing you! I mean, you're doing well, uh... right? I mean..." Matthew trailed off before he made a bigger idiot of himself. He didn't have any fear of losing sight of what he'd come here for. He was more worried that he just wouldn't manage to get the question out. He steeled himself, determined to ask as soon as it was his turn to speak again.

"I am fine." Ivan assured him, settling into his large armchair comfortably. "And you?" Matthew nodded absently, considering how to word his response.

"Oh, yeah. I'm great." He said quickly, and took a quick, deep breath. "Actually, I came to ask about Yeka- about Ukraine. I've been trying to get a h- to call her, for the past week. But her cell phone isn't working, and the people at her office say she isn't there... and they're starting to sound pretty worried about it. So I thought, since you're her brother and all-"

"I have not heard from her recently, no." Ivan cuts in, looking troubled. Matthew almost misses the creepy smile. It's not like he and Ukraine are actually dating or anything, they're just good friends. They have been for years. And sure, ok, he has some feelings for her that go beyond friendship, but he hasn't been brave enough to admit as much out loud, even though he's gotten the impression once or twice that they've been sort of skirting around each other in a way that might be considered flirting if it weren't for the fact that they're both too shy and polite to flirt. He didn't want to make assumptions. At any rate they're not dating, and this has nothing to do with any sort of romantic potential they may have, so he really shouldn't be feeling like the guy left alone with his date's father on prom night. His date's tall, muscular father who used to be in the army and has a gun over the mantelpiece. And is actually her large, 'big-boned' brother who happens to be Russia, which is in fact way more frightening than any tall, muscular, gun-toting ex-army man.

Sometimes Canada found himself really hating the universe for putting him in these situations. How did that one internet meme go? Oh yeah. Fml.

"Uh, well... I guess that's that then. Sorry to have troubled you." Matthew is already scrambling to his feet, nodding respectfully, and backing towards the door. "Maybe I should just go down and see for myself if she's home or not-"

"Ah, you are leaving so soon?" Russia doesn't even have to stand up to make Canada freeze in place like a deer in headlights.

"I-it's a pretty long trip, I'm sorry to run out like this but I really must-" He stammers, and Russia is getting to his feet, and he's smiling again, and hey Matthew doesn't prefer that after all.

"You can be staying for one night, _da_?" Ivan's suggestion is not really a suggestion. Matthew grasps at straws. He does something _Alfred _might do.

"Uh, well, I wanted to ask Belarus too." Canada says. "Maybe I _could _stay a night, could I borrow your phone?" It's Ivan's turn to freeze, and he hastily sits back down again.

"_N-Nyet_. That is... ah... I am sure would be better to ask in person. You go ahead then, I will not keep you." Ivan tries a much shakier smile, and Matthew returns it, feeling only a _little _bad.

"Alright. Thanks Ivan, see you later." Matthew gives him a quick wave and is out the door.

"_Do svidaniya_." Ivan murmurs, returning the wave half-heartedly, but Canada is already gone. He waits a few minutes, until the sound of a car driving off has faded into the distance, then he reaches into a pocket and retrieves a sleek dark phone. He flips it open, presses a number on speeddial, and speaks in rapid Russian as soon as he hears a response from the other side. "_Hello. It is Ivan._"..."_I need you to check on someone for me._"..."_No._"..."_No._"... "_Yekaterina Braginskaya. Yes._"..."_No, do not make contact, just let me know her status._"..."_Yes._"..."_I know you will. Good-bye._"

* * *

To Be Continued...


	4. Informant

A/N: Short chapter is short.

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

* * *

Chapter 4: Informant

* * *

They are on a boat. No, a _ship_. And they are not passengers. They are cargo.

Ukraine holds onto Irina's hand tightly, and she is not sure if it is for the girl's sake or her own. Perhaps it is for the both of them.

There is no light in the crate they've been shut up in. There is nothing but the stale air, passing slowly through the small cracks and holes that allow them to breathe. There is no sound but for the slow roar of engines and the quick inhale and exhale of the two women. There were others. Ukraine saw them when they were all being packed away, but they are in different crates.

"_People will turn on you_." Irina whispered, giving Yekaterina's hand a gentle squeeze. "_Other girls. Not all of us are trustworthy. Not all of us will... appreciate... what you did for me. They will take advantage of you, or betray you. You should look after yourself_."

"_Do not worry about me, Irina_." Ukraine murmured back, stroking the girl's hair blindly in the darkness. "_I know that people can be cruel_." Oh, how she knew. But Irina was not one of the cruel ones, and no one deserved the life these girls were being led-no, dragged- to.

It was not a quick trip.

Parched, starving, and rapidly developing claustrophobia was how they arrived at their undisclosed destination.

They were herded onto the dock, shoved into a van before Ukraine could get more than one breath of salty Atlantic air. She had known they were being taken to North America, why else would the captors speak English? But the feeling of the land beneath her feet, the clean, sharply cold breeze blowing from the mountains... she knew before she saw the first maple leaf insignia that they had not arrived in the United States, as she had assumed. She couldn't help hope from spiking in her heart, and then rapidly growing sour as she thought of him seeing her like this...

"_Matvey_..." She murmured unconsciously, the misery in her voice practically tangible.

"_Yekaterina? What is it?_" Irina tugged on her hand curiously, and Ukraine sighed and looked away from the tinted windows of the van.

"_We are in Canada_."

* * *

It was so quiet when Canada cut the engine that he thought for a moment no one could possibly be in the house. The entire estate was a deadzone. Not a blade of stiff, frost-covered grass rustled. Not even the thinnest of the bare tree branches waved. There was no wind to howl or whisper around the curves of the old mansion, there was no birdsong or buzzing of insects. The sky was paper white and unmarred by any soaring figure or curl of darker cloud.

Stepping out of the car, Canada panicked for a moment when he couldn't hear his own breathing. He had to place a hand over his chest to make sure his heart was still beating, and it was, doubletime, but soundless. Someone had dropped a muffler over this little corner of the world.

Nothing dared to disturb the peace of Belarus's home, lest it catch her attention.

Canada took a deep breath as quietly as he could, something in him warning against breaking the sanctity of the silence, and he practically tiptoed up the porch. There was a knocker, but it gleamed like something that had never been touched, and his attention was drawn to an equally fresh doorbell just beneath it. He pressed the button once. He couldn't hear anything from inside, and wondered if maybe it was broken, but decided to wait a minute or two before trying again.

He glanced over his shoulder, repeating the motion he had made at Russia's house of checking to be sure the car was still there. He looked back, and almost had a heart attack when he met the glacial blue eyes of Natalia Alfroskaya. The door looked like the type to creak when it opened. It wasn't.

"What." Belarus stated, and Matthew wasn't sure what to say to a question that was obviously meant as a dismissal. He swallowed a few times, trying to coax moisture back into the desert his mouth had become. Belarus stared patiently, Matthew tried not to blink, because it didn't seem like she was and he didn't want to be rude.

"Er... hi, I uh... wanted to ask you something..." His eyes watered. Belarus leaned against the door, there was a faint rustle of petticoats and Matthew didn't know if he was relieved or alarmed at the sound, the only one besides their voices he had heard since arriving.

"What." Belarus said again, just as impassive, but at least she was responding. And she hadn't asked who he was! Maybe she actually recognized him! ...Or maybe she just didn't care. Still, she'd spoken first, and she'd known to speak English, so maybe... or maybe she thought he was America. Matthew shook his head a little, as if to clear it. It didn't matter.

"Ah... I just wanted to know if you'd heard from Ukraine at all recently? Or know where she is?" He asked hopefully. Somehow he doubted it, but you never knew... Ukraine supposedly had a better relationship with Belarus than Russia at least, and they were sisters, so... she must know _something_, right?

"That is all?" There was a definite inquiring inflection this time, and a slight, elegant quirk of Natalia's eyebrow that indicated a vague interest. Matthew floundered a little, wondering if the change was good or bad.

"Er, yes?" He replied, hope rising, and he managed a small, friendly smile.

"No." Belarus answered. And then she shut the door. It made a small click when it shut, and Matthew found that oddly comforting. Jesus, no wonder Russia was so terrified of her. Matthew was shaking as he walked back to the car, and the conversation couldn't have lasted more than two or three minutes.

As he revved the ignition, Canada thought he saw movement in one of the ground floor windows out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked up to see what it was, the pale lace curtains were motionless and opaque.

He'd watched award-winning horror movies that hadn't creeped him out this much.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	5. Mattresses

A/N: I didn't really make it clear in the story, so to avoid confusion I suppose I should let everyone know that the fragments from Ukraine's and Canada's points of view don't match up on the timeline. Each segment of Canada's side of the story is set at least a week after the corresponding fragment from Ukraine's side. So in the first chapter when Canada is talking to America, Ukraine is already on the ship as seen in chapter 4. By the time Canada talks to Belarus, Ukraine has already been in Canada for a week or longer. It's not entirely clear-cut, but I hope that gives at least a vague idea of how everything's been going down. It'll be pretty obvious when the two timelines finally match up.

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

* * *

Chapter 5: Mattresses

* * *

The outfits they'd been given couldn't really be called _clothes_, as such. More like lingerie, something Ukraine was actually incredibly unfamiliar with. The scraps of cloth didn't cover anything enough to be decent by any stretch of the imagination, but then, the girls were _supposed _to be on display.

At first, Ukraine thought she could run, she thought escaping would be simple enough. She'd just climb out one of the windows when she was sent into a room to wait for a client, or maybe she could wait until they took them out somewhere and run then... there were plenty of opportunities, security had grown far more lax now, probably they thought that being in a foreign country would make the girls much more reluctant to attempt escape. Not to mention they still threatened them with death, both their own and that of their loved ones. Yekaterina had no fears on this front. She wasn't human, so she couldn't really be killed, and she knew for a fact they couldn't really get their hands on anyone close to her...

...except Irina. She'd been an idiot to let them see she cared for the girl. But it wasn't in her nature to be cold, she wasn't like her sister or her brother in that respect, she couldn't keep from comforting someone in need. And Alexis must somehow have seen her intent to escape in her eyes, the same as he had before, because he told her flatout while the new 'clothes' were being passed around, that if she tried to run... Irina would suffer for it. And so she was trapped, as surely as if she'd been one of the others. Trapped in a waking nightmare, where they were escorted to random apartments, or dragged into back rooms, or lined up in a 'beauty parlor' like a row of produce for selection, and always sold, every day... it felt neverending, they just kept coming. Ukraine couldn't bring herself to count, but she was sure each of the girls, including herself, was forced onto at least ten buyers a day.

Once, she'd tried talking to one of them, a relatively young, businessman type with a nervous look in his eye, like it was his first time here and he wasn't sure what to do. He chose Yekaterina by her face, not her chest, which was a rarity, and she thought maybe it was because he found her reassuring... so she tried to use the advantage she'd hidden, and addressed him in English. She told him they'd been brought here against their will, they were trafficked, she begged him to help, please, promised that if he saved them he wouldn't get in trouble, that he'd be a hero... He'd just given her a terrified look and left the building as quickly as possible.

Help was not forthcoming. But he'd never returned either, and she'd never been punished for the incident, so she couldn't bring herself to hate the man, cowardly as he was.

That changed.

By the second week, she felt ready to hate anyone. She had too much pain built up, she felt disgusting no matter how many showers she took, she felt ruined and humiliated and she just couldn't bear it, she needed someone or something to hate. She hated Alexis and the other men who had brought her here and sold her, she hated the ones that bought her, she hated herself, she hated everything. She wished she _was _a normal human, so that she could die. She just wanted it to end.

Irina was the only comfort, the only thing that kept her going.

"_It won't go on forever_." She would murmur at night, when it was too late out even for the 'customers' to appear. "_It won't go on forever_." But it felt like it was. And Ukraine wasn't young or naive enough to believe in rescue. Sometimes Irina would tell stories of daydreams where police would burst in, and the truth would come out and they would all be free... but Ukraine knew these men would kill them before they let them be freed to testify against them. She knew the reason they were shunted around various cities and towns so often was specifically so that they couldn't be found or caught. There was no rescue coming.

There was nothing but the mattresses.

* * *

No one had heard from Ukraine. No one knew where she was.

Matthew had been to her siblings, he had been to see Estonia and the other Baltics who had always been on friendly enough terms with Ukraine. He went to her government buildings and asked whoever was willing to talk to him there. He kept calling as well, always thinking maybe this time she'd pick up, maybe this time...

She never did.

It was rare, though not unheard of, for a Nation to disappear for a while, when it all became too much, to take a sort of vacation... but Ukraine wasn't the type to run off without at least leaving something behind to let people know she was fine, and that she'd return. Vanishing without a trace like this was a nightmare, it was an international disaster waiting to happen, and more than that...

Matthew was worried about her. He felt sick not knowing where she was, or how to find her. There weren't a lot of things that could harm a Nation, he couldn't imagine what was going on that had caused her disappearance, but whatever it was had to be something really bad. He tried visiting her house, hoping against hope that maybe she was there... and when there was no answer at her door he took a deep breath, and picked the lock. It wasn't a skill he'd used often, nor one he was proud of, but he had to know. He had to see if there was anything in the house that could serve as a clue.

It was quiet inside, and a bit musty, as if there hadn't been a lot of airflow recently. The entire house had an abandoned feel to it, an empty eerieness that crept up Matthew's spine and made him clench his teeth against the urge to run out. He searched the living room and found nothing out of the ordinairy, then went through the kitchen, the dining room, the bathroom... and blushingly glanced over her room, not able to bring himself to look in her closet or drawers, though he did peek under her bed. There was no sign of foul play, no note or message, cryptic or otherwise, there was nothing... he stood in the living room once again, as clueless as when he'd first walked in. Checking her phone messages showed only the calls he himself had made, as well as a good number from her boss and a few coworkers, asking worriedly after her.

He was about to shut it off, when the last message on the machine clicked on, and he stopped at the vaguely familiar female voice that began speaking. It took him a moment to place the speaker, he didn't know her very well, and the fact that she was speaking in mildly accented Russian didn't help, but eventually the answer came to him.

It was Hungary. He quickly hit the button to replay the message, listening carefully.

"_Hey, Katya, sorry about ditching you like that on Friday, but you know how it is when Gilbert's being difficult. I came back to the bar as soon as I chased him off, but you weren't there, I guess I took too long... again, really sorry. Maybe we can set up another Girl's Night Out next month, huh? I bet I can convince Belgium to come with us next time, it'll be fun! Let me know whenever you can. Later! -click-beep-whir- Message Ended._"

Canada almost couldn't believe it. He checked the date on the message-it was from almost two weeks ago- and it hadn't been listened to before... that meant... Hungary may very well have been the last person to see Ukraine. His heart beat faster, excitement brewing in his chest. This was something, he could feel it, it would lead him... somewhere.

Well, first of all, it was going to lead him to Budapest.

Hope restored, Canada left the building, making sure to set the lock behind him again. He returned to his car, still thinking of how Hungary might be able to help, and was so distracted that the sudden ringing of his phone almost gave him a heart attack.

"H-hello? Matthew Williams speaking..." He answered, more shakily than he would have liked, as he shut the car door and fumbled for his keys, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

"Canada." Matthew nearly jumped out of his seat, dropping the keys as the cold voice fizzled through the connection. It had been decades since he'd heard Russia sound that serious. He quickly grasped the phone before it could slide away.

"Um, yes?" He asked, wondering what Russia could want... had he maybe heard from Ukraine! He waited with bated breath as the silence trailed on, Russia seeming to be searching for the right words.

"...I have... unconfirmed information. It is very disturbing." He said, finally. Matthew could feel his heart thud-thud-thudding against his ribcage. He stayed quiet, expecting more. He wasn't disappointed. "Keep looking for her. She may be in very great danger. I will call you when I have more information." Matthew nodded, then remembered that he was on the phone and Russia obviously couldn't see it.

"Ah, yeah- yes, of course I will. Thanks Ivan."

"Until later."

"...right. Bye. I mean, wait, you've barely told me anyth-"

Click. Dial tone.

Matthew sighed, and flipped his phone shut, sliding it back into his pocket even as he leaned down to fish his keys from the floor of the car. He kept looking for answers, and finding more questions.

* * *

To Be Continued...


End file.
